Skin
by Lady Veantirme
Summary: Evey takes a bath. V assists. Written for Erotic Massage Day.


**Skin**

Evey took in the room slowly, savoring the view before her. The flickering lights of the candles gleamed on the clean tiles, illuminating the room in a warm glow. There was no flutter of movement, yet her gaze was drawn to him, a living statue erected in praise to the Gods of elegance, a vision in black silk and satin. His gloves lay by the sink, empty but not flat, like recently shed snake skins. She turned her head slowly, so as not to startle him, hoping to get a glimpse of his bare flesh. She had not seen his skin since her first morning in the Shadow Gallery. He had thought her repulsed then, and was careful not to expose himself in her presence again. Now he stood silently facing her, his naked hands clasped behind his back. Whisps of steam rose in gently spiraling trails from the porcelain tub, bubbly and inviting.

"Good evening, Evey," he greeted her, his voice unusually soft. She smiled demurely, casting her gaze to the floor.

"Good evening, V," She whispered, blushing furiously.

"Please," he raised his outstretched hand to her.

Quickly untying the sash on her robe, Evey let the silken garment slide from her shoulders, pooling in the ground at her feet, before taken the proffered hand.

His skin felt soft, yet firm against her fingers, the many scars caressing her smooth skin. She ran her fingertips lightly over his palm, eliciting a shudder from the masked man.

"Oh, V," she sighed, raising his hand to her eyes for closer scrutiny. The skin was angry, a mottled collection of ridges, a relief map of now distant pains. Holding his fingers loosely between her own smooth digits, she brought his knuckles to her cheek, gently nuzzling the ruined flesh. Gazing into the black slits that served as V's eyes, she drew her lips across the top of his hand. She whispered, "Are you afraid?"

The couple stood in silence, mirror figures in white and black marble.

With a sad smile, she lowered his hand to her side, squeezing it reassuringly.

She heard a deep breath slip past his lips. "Come," he said quietly, leading her towards the clawfoot bathtub. He placed one hand on the small of her back, the other still grasping her fingers to help balance her as she eased into the steaming water.

The smell of almonds from the scented soap permeated the air, which was heavy with steam. Evey inhaled, allowing her muscles to surrender to the heat. She closed her eyes, sinking gratefully beneath the bubbles.

Without a word, V knelt on the floor behind her. An assortment of soaps, rags, and brushes sat on a silver tray by his feet. On his other side was a silver basin full of water, along with a matching vessel. Dipping the vessel into the basin, he raised the container to her head, pouring the clear water over her hair. Once it was thoroughly wetted, he bent to retrieve a small bottle, coaxing the contents out and into the palm of his hand.

His fingertips were like magic as they raked across her scalp, sending little tendrils of pleasure down her neck and arms. Despite the warmth that radiated from the water, Evey shivered as he worked the soap into a lather, gently running his fingers through her hair. He placed one hand as a visor over her forehead, as he poured fresh water from the basin over her head. The soap ran in silky streams down her neck and over her shoulders. V piled her now clean hair on her head, rubbing more soap onto the smooth skin of her shoulders.

"Oh," Evey groaned as V pressed his fingers into the tense muscles of her neck. "That feels wonderful." His nimble fingertips slipped over her skin, slick with soap. She let her head drop to her chest, giving him better access to her aching muscles. His knuckles rolled over the sensitive spots by her shoulder blades. He massaged her until she was limp, then his hands stilled, one gently grasping either shoulder. She felt calm, relaxed. The absence of his fingers from her body reminded her that she had not expected this gift.

"V?" She asked, his name itself a question. "Why?"

A bead of water dripped from the vessel to the basin, the sound echoing loudly in the room's tomblike stillness. His leather boots creaked on the tile floor as he leaned forward. She felt the heat from his body as he moved over her, her heart pounding as she heard him slide the mask over his head. Evey felt his breath naked against her back. Ever so softly, he pressed his lips against the tender spot at the nape of her neck.


End file.
